


The Kit

by TriDom



Series: The Kit [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fox!Stiles, Hunter!Chris, M/M, Momwolf!peter, Peter and Chris basically adopt Stiles, Some graphic descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDom/pseuds/TriDom
Summary: While hunting, Chris and Peter find a fox kit in one of their traps.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started this series on my tumblr. I'm going to add more and start posting them here as well. This will be a series.

Chris followed Peter’s white fur through the underbrush, stepping over tangles of thorns and downed trees as the wolf kept his nose down. His rifles brushed his back as he moved, jostling  
against his arm or shoulder as he shifted and tried to be quiet, and still sounded like a heard of elephants next to his partner that moved like a ghost  
through the pines.

He couldn’t see Peter when he heard the low short howl. Far away, coyotes echoed him in poor imitating yaps.

When he stepped into the clearing Peter stood in, his head was back again, a long low howl filling the space more than seemed possible. Chris went to his side and tugged Peter’s head against his hip, rubbing into the thick scruff of his fur.

Peter’s eyes flashed his human blue as he looked up at him then at the metal trap they put out two days before. There were two fox carcasses beside it. A larger female with swollen mammaries and a small kit. They had been torn apart, There was hardly anything left of the smaller body. The mother had been left more intact, but still she had been mauled and torn from separate directions at once.  

Chris crouched and looked through the mesh front. It wasn’t the badger he had been trying to catch. It was too small, curled in on itself. All he could see was the glow of its yellow eyes in the shadow at the rear of the cage.

Peter went to the ventilation holes at the rear and sniffed. A low little growl started inside.

“Can I open this?” Chris asked, looking at Peter.

Peter only continued to sniff. That was answer enough. If Peter didn’t want him to open it, he’d make it clear enough that Chris wouldn’t think twice. He slid back the spring and let it fall on its catch, leaving the door open and the allowing the little sunlight to come in.

It was a fox kit. Making itself smaller, pressing as far back against the cage as it could.

Chris moved back from the mouth, leaning against a tree to the side. Peter waited behind the cage. As it became darker, Chris started to think the kit may not come out. He was close to closing the cage up and taking it back to the house when he heard the rattling scratch of toenails before the kit bolted.

Peter was on it before it was halfway to the trees. It started to screech, tiny furious noises as it twisted its small body in his mouth. Chris’s chest twisted as the little animal fought its heart out, not knowing that Peter wasn’t going to eat it alive.

Chris watched the flex of Peter’s jaw as the kit fought more until it slowly started to sag occasionally kicking out its small rear legs. Chris went closer and took the kit from Peter’s mouth by the skin of its back until he could move his hand up to its scruff.

It hung like a kitten from his hand, the corners of its eyes and ears pulled back.

“That’s its mom?” Chris asked, looking at Peter as he went to the carcasses and sniffed the black tacky blood. His lack of reply was enough. Chris used his gloved hand to lift the fox’s small lip. He was so small, anemic, dehydrated with his skin almost crackling on his frame.

He heard the wet snapping of Peter shifting before he felt his warmth beside him as he dug in his backpack, taking out clothing and shoes.

“If we leave him out here he’ll die,” Peter said. “The coyotes that killed her aren’t far. He’d be dog shit before tomorrow morning.”

“Maybe nature should take its course.”

“It’s adorable when you pretend to be heartless,” Peter said, taking the kit from him. It spat at him, its hackles raising as it coiled back against his arm. “Ferocious,” Peter said, petting its small face like he wasn’t afraid of the razor white milk teeth it showed in the evening light.


End file.
